Tired of Pretending Version 20
by storyteller41
Summary: This story runs on the same basic story line as the original, but I decided to go somewhat differently this time around. Sam found Dash's journal and read it cover to cover. Read to find out her reactions. Dash/Sam friendship and maybe more.
1. Chapter 1

**Tired of Pretending Version 2.0**

Disclaimer: The usual disclaimers do apply. I don't own any of the characters.

A/N: Some of them may seem OOC, but not exactly if you think about it.

A/N 2: This follows the same basic principles as the first one; however, the story itself is somewhat different.

A/N 3: There won't be many ghost fights talked about, just assume it still happens.

Warning: Dash/Sam pairing eventually.

Pre-Phantom Planet

 **Chapter 1**

 **Dash**

On the outside Dash Baxter has the perfect life. He's rich, he's handsome, and he made it as a starting quarterback as a Freshman, one of only two in the entire history of Casper High. He's on the A-list, is the most popular male jock in high school, and has parents that let him do whatever he wants.

The reality; however, was much different. His dad made sure at a young age that he knew he had to be the strongest and best. He told his son that he had to show the other students who was boss and if he didn't fulfill his request, he made sure he showed his son how weak he thought he was.

He was put through rigorous training to be the perfect football player starting at only three years old. His father made sure that he knew that no son of his had any room for weakness. Perceived weakness was often beat out of him, but never where anyone would be able to see it.

He was put in football camp with second graders in a different town by the time he was in kindergarten. The coach was told that he was small for his age and that they shouldn't hold back because it would build character for his son. A five year old Dash often came home bruised and bloody by a bunch of seven and eight year olds.

Dash's mom didn't dare say a word against her husband. She was beaten on a daily basis so she would 'know her place.' She only wore long-sleeve shirts and long pants to cover the scars and bruises that littered her body. She and Dash would curl up together in his bed when his dad would go out for his nightly drinking binge. She protected him as much as she could, but in the end it wasn't much.

She'd thought about leaving him many times and taking Dash where no one would find them. She'd given up on that dream though. She'd run away with Dash close to ten times, but every time he found them. Her punishment and her son's was so much worse than when she stayed. Each time she and Dash had ended up in the hospital from different 'accidents.' They always went to different hospitals in different cities under different names so that they wouldn't get red flagged for domestic abuse.

As Dash got older, he started getting between his dad and mom for her daily beatings. He tried to protect her the best he could which wasn't much in the beginning. His dad would just go through him to get to her. Later on he was able to withstand so much more and his dad would give up and leave before getting to his mother. He never showed weakness no matter how bad the beatings were. He stood tall and didn't make a sound. After his dad left and he heard his car turn the corner down the street is when he'd finally allow himself to collapse in exhaustion and pain.

When he had to change out for P.E. In school or for football, he'd always change in the bathroom stall. That way nobody could question his scars that were all over his back, chest, thighs, and backside. His dad made sure to never leave scars or bruising that could possibly ever be seen when Dash wore shorts and a tank top. Dash would tell everyone who asked that he didn't want the losers to feel bad that they weren't as built and good-looking as him.

Kwan was his next door neighbor and best friend. He had no idea what Dash's home life was like. Dash would often come over and say that his parents went out for the evening and were wondering if his parents could watch him. It was the only place that Dash actually felt safe. It would be after his dad went binge drinking and when his mom went to bed which was often right after his dad left.

Through Kwan's parents, Dash learned how good parents are supposed to behave. He learned through asking questions of 'hypothetical' situations that men shouldn't use their fists on women or children, that they were to be cherished and protected. That violence didn't always solve problems, and that people should always help those less fortunate than them. He spent as much time as he possibly could with them.

Kwan was allowed to come over to Dash's house as long as Dash asked his dad in the morning before he went to work. Through subtle hints and manipulation Dash's dad got Kwan to agree to tell him how many 'weak' students his son had pushed over or belittled and in later years how many he'd stuffed into lockers. By then Kwan was so used to doing it, that he didn't think anything of it. In fact, he often helped Dash corral them into prime position in order for them to be stuffed into lockers.

When Dash temporarily kicked Kwan out of the A-listers at school, they still hung out after school and after football practice. Their friendship didn't suffer at all. Part of that was that they agreed not to tell anyone else about it. Kwan was the only one out of the A-listers that Dash actually liked. The rest of them were shallow and vain and he would have nothing to do with them if it weren't for the image that was so important to his dad.

When the Fenton's moved to town, his dad made sure to tell him to target Danny. He wanted Dash to try to beat out the ridiculous 'ghost business' out of him before he got sucked into his parents weird beliefs. If he didn't at least approach Danny and tell him how stupid he was, then his dad made sure to let him know how upset he was with him.

Reading and writing was an escape for Dash. An escape from his reality into the one's of fairy-tales and fiction. His mom always told him how proud she was when he brought home a perfect paper or that in his writing he was using vocabulary for college age students let alone fifth graders. He used words like 'plethora' and 'superfluous.' At least he did until his dad noticed.

His dad did his best to beat it out of him. He let him know that only weak-willed people ever used words that other people had to look up in the dictionary. He said the only reason that those intellectual people used words that normal people didn't understand was to make up for what they were lacking in other areas such as looks or sports. No son of his was lacking and therefore had better not be speaking like he was better than everyone. He would prove to everyone he was better than them by demonstrating his strength and prowess at sports.

After his father left that night his mother told him how proud she was of him and that he should keep his grades up and keep on reading even if it was only in secret. When Dash got his grades back and got straight A's, his mother gave him rewards such as books and journals that he had to hide from his dad. It wasn't uncommon for his dad to sell or destroy his books if they were laying around and he felt he was spending too much time reading and not enough on football skills.

He pretended to get bad grades for the A-listers and Danny Fenton. He never felt like he could be himself. He was always pretending. Pretending to be stronger, dumber, vainer, shallower, etc. He was tired of it. That was his life. He often snuck into the library to write in his journal. Most of the high school thought that Dash Baxter didn't even know where the library was.

He always went to a table that was far away from everyone. It was hidden behind a curved row of books and couldn't be seen from the majority of the tables in there. He was able to go to the library when he was scheduled for study hall. He didn't know what the other students thought he did every day. Mr. Lancer and he had a deal. He wouldn't tell anyone about Dash being on the honor roll for having straight A's and he in turn would keep the A-listers from making him into one of their pranks, always directing them to somewhere else instead.

He went home that day, the last day of Freshman year, and went up to his room to empty his bag and hide his literary books and journal. He found the books, but the journal was nowhere to be found. The most he could hope for was that someone either turned it in without reading it, an absurd assumption he knew, or that the janitor threw it away. He could only hope that none of the other students had found it.

The beginning was filled with nonsense he didn't believe or practice just in case someone were to read it. However, after about maybe ten pages or so, he wrote things that were real and deeply personal. He would wish that someone would get bored before getting to those things. He tried not to think about it.

 **Sam**

On the outside Sam Manson was confident, cool, collected. She thrived under pressure, loved being different than everyone else, and didn't care what anyone else thought of her. Her attitude was along the lines of I'll be myself no matter what you say.

On the inside she felt hurt, insecure, and alone. She felt hurt because more often than not her parents discussed how disappointing she was as a daughter when they thought she wasn't listening. Insecure because she'd never been even called pretty in the very basic sense of the word except for Gregor or Elliot or whatever he's calling himself today and that was fake. She felt alone because although she and her two best friends were almost always together, they were growing farther apart or at least she felt like she was from them.

The older they got into their formative teenage years, the more her two best friends, who happen to be guys, became girl crazy. Sometimes she thought she either needed to become a lesbian or have man parts in order to even begin to want to listen to some of their conversations. She didn't have anything against lesbianism, in fact she thought it would be great to have one as a friend, but she didn't swing that way and a sex change was definitely not an option for her.

She didn't mind them being girl crazy, it happens to all straight guys eventually. What upset her, besides her ridiculous crush on Danny beginning of Freshman year, was that whenever there was a female within the same room whether it be two feet or two miles, it was like they had an instant radar, and zoned in on whoever she may be paying absolutely no attention to Sam until whoever she was left. It wasn't like she wanted them to look at her like that, especially now that her crush on Danny was over, she just wished they wouldn't completely become hormonal idiots.

She knew the exact moment a female entered the room. They'd both get this slightly creepy glazed look in their eyes and depending on how pretty the girl was, there was sometimes drool involved. Then they'd start calling dibs on her like she was a piece of meat making her glad once again that they didn't see her like that. Once the 'she' was gone, then there eyes came back in focus and went back to their previous conversation like it never even happened.

She just wished she could be considered at least one tenth as pretty as any other girl in this school by basically anyone. She didn't want anyone to have a crush on her or anything, but being considered at least slightly attractive would be nice. The fact that she wore a miniskirt and half shirt and still the exotic beauties like Paulina and the curvacious beauties like Valerie were drooled upon only wearing long pants and a tee-shirt wreaked havoc on her self-esteem.

She didn't want to be looked at like a piece of meat. She wasn't trying to get noticed by anybody wearing what she wore. She just found it to be comfortable and exactly her style. She wasn't looking to impress anyone. She thought it would be nice, that's all. She knew, however; that such silly daydreams would get her nowhere.

When Sam still had a crush on Danny, her study hall would be filled of her doodling him in ghost form on her notebook or just watching him in general, which now that she wasn't in that stupid crush haze, felt slightly nauseating. The lovesick puppy look she probably had on her face didn't make her feel any better.

Now that she wasn't constantly trying to get him to notice her, not that her subtle hints helped the clueless boy, she was able to get much more done. She often had her homework done before she was ten minutes into study hall which greatly annoyed her as she didn't want to sit there doing nothing other than staring at the clock on the wall. So for the last few weeks of school she'd gone to the library.

Every once in a while she thought she'd see Dash go out the library doors once the bell rang, but knew that had to be a mistake. She doubted the boy even knew what a book was none-the-less where the library was located. On the last day of school she just had to make sure. Nobody would believe it if it was true, but if it wasn't she wanted to see who on Earth looked like him that they could be mistaken for him in the back.

When the bell rang she saw him rush through and out the doors. She headed in the direction he had come from and went around the curved bookshelf. She saw the table and what looked like, at first glance, a book someone had forgotten.

She went closer slowly, feeling as if someone might come back any minute. She saw there was a plain blue hard cover, but in the upper right hand corner written in permanent marker was 'Dash B.' She looked around making sure that no one would see her and quickly shoved it in her bag. She ran out to meet with the guys before she could talk herself out of putting it back. She wasn't sure if it was homework, a book, or a journal, but she knew she could use this as a bargaining chip if nothing else.

She wasn't usually into stealing or mind games, but when it came to Dash Baxter, she figured they could use all the help they could get. He never hurt females physically. Mentally and emotionally on the other hand was fair game along with the physical way he tortured the male student body, especially Danny. With her crush on Danny gone, her rose colored glasses on her view of him shattered. That didn't mean that even if sometimes she felt he deserved being shoved into a locker or tortured to some degree, she would allow it if it could be helped.

That night her parents informed her of their intentions of them all going to Europe for the summer. Her grandma was coming, which helped her mood immensely. However, they were gonna leave the next day and not come back until the week before school started up again. They didn't give her more notice because they knew she'd complain about it and try to get them to agree to let her stay by herself.

They thought maybe the fashions and styles along with artwork and other things might inspire her to become more girly. Or at the very least put more color into her wardrobe besides the predominance of black. The first thing on the agenda was shopping for gowns to go to the opera in which Sam pointed out they had in the U.S. Then her mom was going to take her and her grandmother to the spa all day followed by the salon in order to get ready for that evening. It sounded like pure torture to Sam, but she decided to play nice... for now.

She packed and they left, her taking her backpack with her. She forgot all about what she found earlier that day until two weeks later. She had finally managed to get some time to herself after being primped and prodded for hours followed by endless tours of museums and what Sam thought as 'rich, snobby culture.' She finally convinced them to go somewhere by themselves while her grandma took a nap and she stayed in the room by herself.

She opened the book to the first page and began to read...

 _A/N: So what do you think? This is the same basic story line as the original... Sam finds Dash's journal. I wasn't really sure what to do with the other one. I didn't want to take it down because so many people liked it, but I thought I might try again in another direction._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: The usual disclaimers do apply. I don't own any of the characters.

A/N: - means next entryin the journal.

 **Sam**

Sam opened up the book to the first page and began to read...

\- 'My name is Dash Baxter. I am the starting quarterback for high school football at Casper High as a Freshman. That is just the beginning of the awesomeness that is me. I am the king of the school. I start my day off by praising the gods that I was blessed to be me and not anybody else. I'd hate to be somebody else. I feel sorry for everyone who isn't me. Then I shower. My hair takes about an hour. Hey, it takes time to look this handsome. Then I get dressed putting on my letter jacket for last. Every guy that's worth something has one. Then I go to school. I meet with my friends. They are all super popular. Popularity is what makes you or breaks you here.

I go to classes and then to lunch and back to classes. I make sure to let everyone know who's boss. Everyone knows I'm number one, top dog, good-looking, and if they don't, then I beat it into them.

Now let me tell you exactly how I do my hair so that I can show all guys how to be as hot as me. (A/N: This continued on for two more pages, but Sam skimmed through it)

\- DANNY FENTON

Fentina

Fentino

Fentoenail

Fentard

Fentoad

Fentini

\- I am God's gift to all mankind. I am the hottest guy, probably in the World, but definitely in this town. All the babes love me. They all wish they could date me. I'm the greatest football player ever. All the guys want to be me. (A/N: Things were written in this nature for another three pages, then there was a blank page. Next is what followed that.)

\- The Real Dash Baxter

If you're not me and you went through all of the trouble of reading the nine pages and one blank page before this, then that is all a facade. I guess you stuck with me this long, you deserve to know what I'm really like. I don't take an hour to do my hair, I barely take five minutes. I could care less about Danny Fenton other than the fact that for somebody who isn't popular, he thinks he's better than everyone. I wouldn't even bother with him if my dad didn't make me. Just because my dad doesn't like his parents, I have to torture him once a day or I get punished. Yeah, doesn't make sense to me either.

Speaking of popularity though, I wish I wasn't, popular that is. They're all shallow, vain, and fake. My only real friend is Kwan. If it was up to me, Valerie could have stayed sitting with us whether she's rich or not, but I've got an image I've got to uphold. An image that I hate. If you go to Casper High and you hear the name Dash Baxter, then you automatically think jock, bully, A-Lister, dumb.

You wouldn't think that I'm a straight A student with a 4.0 GPA and on the Honor Roll. Mr. Lancer and I have a deal, he doesn't make a big deal out of how smart I am, and I redirect the A-listers ideas of pranking him to someone else. If anyone on that list knew, then I'd be off the A-list faster than I would know what to do with. I'd actually be happy with that as long as I still got to play football. Kwan would still be my friend, we just wouldn't associate during school, just like we did when he got kicked off. My dad on the other hand would not be happy.

(A/N: A few entries later)

\- I can't believe I didn't shove Danny into his locker. I didn't even insult him. My dad is going to go mental. I know what you're thinking, why would your dad go mental over you not beating somebody up? He thinks that since Danny's parents are 'Ghost Freaks,' that it needs to be beat out of him before the idea takes root in his head. He's been making sure I've 'done my duty' since they moved here. Of course he's gonna ask Kwan and Kwan will say 'nope' like it's no big deal. But guess what? It is a big deal. I hope he doesn't bring the bat into my 'lecture' this time. Last time he broke the bat on my throwing arm. Then when I didn't throw a perfect spiral because my arm was messed up, I got another 'lecture.' That time it was the leather whip on my back with glass embedded at the ends. At least mom was grocery shopping that time and I had all the blood cleaned up before she got home.

\- Dad broke three ribs this time. At least this one didn't puncture a lung. It's hard to pretend that you're not in pain when you can barely breathe. I actually got to go to a hospital this time, fourteen cities away from our little town just in case, but still a hospital none-the-less. Mom wanted to come with me, but I wanted her safe away from him. As long as he's with me, he can't hurt her.

I could almost pass for a paramedic with how good I am at wrapping up broken bones, sprains, etc. When we're allowed to go to the hospital, they usually comment on the professional wrapping of whatever it happens to be. My dad will immediately chip in with the answer of the athletic doctor or whatever it is if it's me or that the paramedic did it in the ambulance if it's my mom. It helps that I read everything I can get my hands on for things to do with that subject. I read medical journals, biology books, anatomy books, medical encyclopedias, even medical textbooks from places like Harvard. I'm a closet geek, but it's come in handy plenty of times.

Sam shut the journal and stared at it like a moron. The first ten pages was the Dash that he let the World see. She couldn't believe what she read after that. She decided that she was going to read an entry a day in order to get to know the real Dash better. She made a deal with her parents after they got back to the hotel that night. She wouldn't complain about going anywhere or doing anything from noon until seven p.m. Before and after those times all bets were off as she was not a morning person by any means and even saints wouldn't be able to hold their tongues after seven hours. Then when seven arrived, they would drop her off at the hotel and either go to dinner, opera, dancing, etc. for the evening without her.

Each day Sam read something from Dash's journal. She really liked the guy he seemed to be behind closed doors. She couldn't believe all of the horrors that his dad put them through. She started to understand him a little better. She opened it up again and read another entry as she did every night. (A/N: Each entry is read on a different day.)

\- Mrs. Willow saw me this time. I hope she doesn't tell my dad. I've been maintaining her yard for her, whether it's mowing grass, raking leaves, or shoveling the walkways when it snows for the last three years. I've been really careful to make sure that she, and some of the other people I help, don't see me. If they tell my mom, she'll tell me how proud she is of me, but to be careful. If they tell my dad, then he says 'That's my boy' to them, but to me he says that only wimps and weaklings help people and expect nothing in return. Then he'll go through the nine forms of punishment in order to beat the 'weakness' out of me. Whatever. Someday, I'll make sure my mom's safe, then I'll show him nine forms of punishment.

Open handed blows, usually he goes right to four or five for punishment, these are more like 'hellos' anymore. I usually get at least three right when he sees me.

Punches by his fist.

Aluminum baseball bat, this one doesn't hurt nearly as much as the others.

Wooden baseball bat, I don't know why we have so many baseball bats in the first place because none of us play baseball.

Steel baseball bat, specially crafted by my dear old dad.

Leather whip.

Leather whip split into three at the end.

Leather whip split into three at the end with glass embedded in it.

Mini blowtorch. It's not actually a blowtorch, I doubt even he would get away with that. It's this small device that shoots flame in a concentrated area. One pass across your skin and it's welted, red, and bubbling. Heaven forbid you get more than one pass because for one thing it's extremely painful, which is probably why it's number nine, but eventually it strips away your flesh completely leaving either puss or blood behind.

Nobody knows what they do by telling my dad my 'good' attributes. Like the time Mr. Hernandez tried to tell my dad that I was one of the highest test scorers on the ACT and SAT prep or the time that Mrs. Milo tried to convince my dad of my virtues when she found out I was the one who bought groceries for the homeless shelter every Saturday after football practice. I got punishments 3, 4, 5, 6, & 7 for those. My dad's reasoning was for the prep that I'd start to think I was better than everybody else. As for the homeless shelter, he thought I was rewarding them for being bums.

I still do it anyway, I just make triply sure not to get caught. I know exactly when the homeless shelter coordinator goes out to their car to get their sack lunch and that's when I deposit the groceries before hightailing it out of there. I make sure they have fresh fruits and vegetables and once a month I bring clothing such as shoes of all sizes, coats, gloves, and hats in the winter.

Dash Baxter, at least as the World knows him, wouldn't step foot in a homeless shelter, soup kitchen, or regularly spend time with people at nursing homes who have no one else. Don Brown, and Bobby Black, my aliases, often spend time doing just those things after football practice.

My family has more money than even my dad can drink and gamble away, not that he doesn't try on a nightly basis. I find myself fortunate for the life I have. I mean I have excellent health, scars and broken bones excluded, but I hardly ever get colds, bronchitis, or anything that I would have to take an antibiotic for. I have a mom who would do anything for me if she could and I know she loves me without a doubt. Some of the people I visit either don't have family or their families have all but forgotten them. It's not only my duty to help them in any way I can, it's an honor. Besides with my allowance, I still have quite enough money each week for anything else I might need a million times over.

You'd probably think that I wouldn't get an allowance, but I get an allowance for everything good I do that's football related. My mom gives me allowance for my good grades. She sets aside some of the grocery money aside to be able to do it. My dad doesn't know or I'm sure that would be stopping immediately. He doesn't know grocery costs, the only thing he knows is the cost of liqueur.

I won't ever see another person from Casper High at any one of those places except for Sam Manson. She comes into the soup kitchen to help out a lot of times and I hide or make like I have to leave early. She wouldn't understand. I wish I could explain it to her. Course the fact that I shove her best friend in a locker on a daily basis would only be one of the many deterrents from her believing me.

\- Samantha Charlene Manson. What can I say about her? If I were able to allow myself to think of myself as being able to have a future with someone, Sam would be my dream girl. She's everything that I could ever want in a girlfriend. She's loyal almost to a fault. She has a kindness that's basically unheard of in high school students. She stands up for what she believes in even if no one else believes it with her.

She's got the eyes of a goddess, the mind of a intellectual, and the patience of a saint. Her eyes are the most beautiful color I've ever seen. She ranks second in our entire class just barely under me. Her patience in dealing with Danny and Tucker, her two best friends, is astounding. She's got a dry wit and sarcastic sense of humor.

I remember the first day I saw her. It was the summer before kindergarten and her parents invited all the neighborhood kids to their mansion, I don't think anybody else remembers, so she could get a head start on making friends. She was wearing a pink dress and her hair was down to her waist.

She fascinated me right from the start. I thought she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen besides my mom. All the other little girls were all pretending to be princesses. She on the other hand wanted to play with the boys. I couldn't play because my dad broke my arm. The other boys wouldn't let her play saying she had cooties.

She went into the kitchen and I followed her. She sat down in the corner and pouted. She was pulling at the collar of her dress. I'd never seen a girl look so uncomfortable in a dress. She was grumbling about 'stupid boys' and 'icky pinkness.' I'd never thought I'd see the day that there was a girl who didn't like pink.

I had a black permanent marker in my pants pocket because my mom had just finished putting my name on the tags in my clothes when my ride came. She didn't have any time to do anything else with it so she just told me to put it in my pocket and bring it back when I got home.

I walked up to her and asked why she's wearing a pink dress if she didn't like the color. She answered that her mom picked out the dress and made her promise to wear it. I asked what color she would want to wear. She said she wouldn't want to wear a dress at all, but if she had to then she would choose any color but pink. Her mom, apparently, only ever bought her pink dresses. I thought I had a brilliant idea and took out the permanent marker. I told her we could color her dress black.

We spent the next hour trying to color her dress black. It looked horrible, but she was so happy. She signed my cast when she was done. I told her that if I was able to play that I would allow her to play with me. I told her I didn't think she had cooties. She thanked me and kissed my cheek. I've been smitten ever since.

I've watched her surreptitiously throughout the years. I noticed when she became first a vegetarian, then a vegan, and finally an Ultra-recyclo vegetarian. I watched as she became more impassioned about things she believed in and embraced her individuality. I noticed every outfit change and every different hairstyle.

It was both the best and worst thing when Sam became best friends with Danny Fenton. Best because since I'm required to at least talk to Danny everyday and she's always with him, I get to see and talk to her almost everyday. Most of it's spitting scathing remarks at me, but at least I get to hear her voice. It's the worst thing because Danny drives me nuts and she could do so much better than him. I mean she's friends with Tucker Foley too, but he also lacks in some ways.

It's not because they're not rich, popular, or jocks. I could care less. In fact it's mostly preferred in terms of what I'd want in friends if I was able to choose myself. No, it's because they treat Sam like dirt. I don't think it's intentionally or anything, but a lot of times I notice that they disrespect and underestimate her. They ignore or belittle some of her comments and opinions. Danny, as I mentioned in previous entries, thinks he's better than everyone.

He's got this air of superiority and arrogance he puts off. I know he's Danny Phantom. It's so obvious, it makes me wonder how everyone doesn't figure it out. How stupid are people anyway? First off – Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom. Could he choose a name that was any closer to the original? Secondly take Danny Fenton and give him a white wig and green contacts and you get Danny Phantom. I mean seriously, he even has the same hairstyle, it's just a different color. I know he doesn't turn into his alter ego with a wig and contacts; I've seen him transform or whatever it is he does. So that might have something to do with his attitude toward others, but I'm pretty sure he was like that even before he changed.

Tucker Foley isn't so bad. He just happens to think he's God's gift to women. The girls at school make jokes about how many times he's asked them out and been turned down. He also seems to think he's better than everyone, maybe not better but definitely smarter. At least he has an excuse for that. I mean out of our entire class, he's one of the top five. I'm first, Sam's second, and Tucker's fifth.

Sam couldn't believe Dash thought so highly of her. She was usually considered too opinionated, too tomboyish even though she wore miniskirts, too whatever. The fact that he thought she would be the perfect girlfriend both boosted her self-esteem and messed with her head.

\- My dad went to my game today. It's a lucky thing I happen to love football since my dad seems to live it vicariously through me. Can you imagine how much my life would suck if I hated the sport? I both love and hate when my dad comes to my games.

I love it because it almost feels as if he cares even though he cares about the game and not me. I hate it because he critiques every single play. When we get home I hear all about every mistake he believes I made. Occasionally he'll throw in something good I did, but it's immediately followed by how it'd better be better the next time he comes. He only comes to about one a month, thankfully.

\- My mom's in the hospital thirty cities away. I've stepped in between my dad and my mom since I was eight. This time he got home early and decided to take advantage of it while I was still in school. I went to see her. She looks awful. Apparently he decided to give her all the beatings I'd taken for her all at once. Do you have any idea how many beatings she'd 'built' up? Both her right leg and left arm are broken, so are sixteen ribs. She's got one eye swollen shut, a shattered jaw, a broken nose, five teeth are missing, and she was put in a medically induced coma.

I stayed with her as long as I could, but eventually I had to go back. I couldn't miss school no matter what. I'm gonna spend the whole weekend by her side though. I know she'll be safe in the hospital at least. My dad can't be with her because he's got to act the part of the doting father while my mother's 'on vacation.' I'm so glad even if it means I have to suffer more in her absence he can't completely destroy her.

\- My mom was woken up today. I think the doctors and nurses are starting to notice that something's wrong with my family. I think it gave kind of a big hint when my dad showed up and my mom whimpered and tried to make herself as small as possible, which wasn't a lot given her injuries. Then I suppose I made it more obvious when I stood up and kept in between them not letting him get more than two feet from her.

\- I'm taking care of my mom now that she's home. I'm not letting my dad near her. I'm also making the dinner and cleaning the house. I even booby trapped my mom's room so that if my dad tries to get in while I'm not there, let's just say not even he will try again. I think I'm getting the hang of being a caregiver.

I'm still working on my cooking skills. My mom can only drink liquid still and that's harder to burn. I'm eating less charred mac and cheese. Sandwiches are pretty easy. Salads are as well, they just take a little more work. Plus I need to have more than salad to keep my body in key football shape.

\- Oh my, oh my, oh my. I can't believe this happened. What am I gonna do? I can't tell anyone, not that they'd believe me anyway, but he was gonna kill her. What was I supposed to do, let him? It's one thing to beat up on me, I can take it. I even let him have a semi-free pass for putting my mother in the hospital as long as he stayed away from her after that. Her jaws are wired shut for another six months and she can only drink through a straw.

It's not like she could defend herself, not that she could do much before, but now she's almost completely dependent on me. I've never been needed before. I'll probably never be needed again, but that's not the point. I just about killed my dad. I mean I came home and apparently he figured out my system or maybe I forgot to set it up because he was in her room standing over her with his intent clear. He had his hands around her throat and she was turning blue from lack of oxygen. I didn't even think, I just acted.

I grabbed the first thing I could think of, which happened to be the steel baseball bat. I swung it at his head. He let go of her and she fell back trying to gasp for breath, which was kind of hard to do with her jaw being wired shut. He turned to face me with blood dripping down the side of his face. He started toward me and I did what my instincts told me to do and swung at him again and again until he went down. I kept it up even then and I probably would have kept going if my mom hadn't of started hyperventilating.

I checked on my dad real quick to make sure he was out cold, then went to my mom. I had to get the oxygen tank because she wasn't getting enough air. Luckily I knew what to do from the things that I read. My mom might be dead if I hadn't. I knew I needed an ambulance for both of my parents. Hopefully it won't make it through the gossip grapevine. Probably not, but I can dream.

\- I'm being placed in foster care. I tried to tell them that I could take care of myself, but they said it just wasn't plausible. I took care of my mom for three months before the bat incident. If I can give medicine, make food, change clothes, and change bed pans for my mom without trouble and without complaint, then I can clearly take care of myself. They didn't see it that way.

So here's what happened: I called the ambulance and when it came and the paramedics arrived, I had to tell all of the injuries and everything I did to treat it while waiting for them to arrive. My dad was still passed out on the ground with blood everywhere. The baseball bat was lying next to him. I wanted to go with my mother, but the paramedics called the police because it was obvious my father was assaulted.

I was put in the back of the police vehicle and taken to the precinct. I got the distinct impression that the arresting officer thinks I did it unprovoked. I was put into the holding cell for hours without them telling me anything. I guess I must look older than I am because when I told them I was fifteen and it probably constituted as cruel and unusual punishment I was promptly let out and into the questioning room.

I was asked millions of questions. I ended up admitting to assaulting my dad because he was in the process of what looked to be killing my mom. I asked how my mom was and was told she was being stabilized. That meant she wasn't stabilized yet. They asked if my dad had showed tendencies of violence before. Well, they asked.

It took five hours of interrogation and for them to check out the stories of all the names I'd said we'd used at different hospitals across the state. When they came back after comparing notes, they asked if I had any undeniable proof of my father's violence. All I had to do was take off my shirt. There was plenty of evidence in both the front and back.

I wasn't charged for two reasons. The first was that it was defense for the third party, or something like that. The second was that I'm a minor. The DA would probably want to try me as an adult. By the end they had everything they needed to charge my dad on 123 counts of assault, 50 assaults with a deadly weapon, and 90 child endangerment acts. If he was found guilty, he'd be going to jail for a very long time. They don't like wife beaters in jail, so maybe he'll get what's coming to him. I don't want him to die or anything, I just think he needs to know how it feels to be helpless and at the mercy of someone else.

\- My mother is still in the hospital and my father's in jail. I'm being put in foster care until they can determine whether my mother is a fit parent or not. I told Kwan that my father was simply moving us to the other side of town and that it needed to be a secret. There was no way I could tell anyone what was really going on.

\- I've been in the foster care system for more than a month. They're no closer to reaching a decision now than they were before about my mother. She's still in the hospital due to some complications from the lack of oxygen she was able to get after being strangled.

My father's trial isn't for another three months. I'm stuck here for awhile. I have no other relatives that I know of. My father's family is all dead and my mother's family disowned her when she became pregnant with me. They disapproved of her choices and the consequences were no more family. She wouldn't give me up. They said she could stay if she either gave me up for adoption or aborted me. That wasn't an option for my mom.

\- I've run away from foster care. Nobody will say anything because they don't want to be seen as incompetent. My dad is officially in jail, my mom was judged as unfit to be a legal guardian, and I became a ward of the state at the age of fifteen. The bank foreclosed on our old house and it was sold so I couldn't have stayed there. Nobody bugs me about going back as long as I go to school and football practice. They don't know where I'm staying and they say it can stay that way if I show up on time with good hygiene.

I live in the school. I know what you're thinking, but it's not that bad. I use the showers in the guys locker room. I already have my meals paid up through the end of school so that takes care of one meal a day. I sleep in a sleeping bag that I shove in an empty locker during the day. It's actually really comfortable. I could afford my own place with how much money I have saved up, but nobody's selling or renting to a fifteen year old.

I know exactly when the janitors get here to unlock the doors in the morning and what time it's locked up for night. I use the fridge and microwave in the teacher's lounge and keep my food hidden in the very back of the fridge. I go to the laundromat in town once a week and have all my clothes hidden in different places.

I don't know what I'm gonna do during the summer when school is closed, but for now I got it pretty good.

\- I'm still training for football as hard as my dad would make me. I want to be able to get a full scholarship somewhere in both football and academics. I don't want to be a pro or anything, but I think college ball would be a lot more challenging.

I took the placement test because I was curious. I could be a senior if I really wanted to. I don't want to do that. Next year, however; I'm going to take dual credit AP classes. That means they'll count for both high school and college. It's a new program they're starting. I think I'll hint around to have Mr. Lancer tell Sam about it.

\- You know I was thinking about it and I don't have to be a bully anymore. I don't have to act stupid or hide doing good deeds. I'm not gonna show off or anything, but acting even marginally smarter will be better.

I'm going to implement this next school year so maybe they'll think I had a change of heart over summer. That way it won't seem as if I'm the 'me' that they know one day and acting like somebody else the next.

I still shove Danny in his locker in order for this to work. I try to show apology with my eyes, but I don't think anybody saw it. It doesn't matter. Next year's gonna be great because I'll be able to act like the real me for the first time ever without fear of punishment and they'll finally let me visit my mom. She still hasn't quite fully recovered. That coupled with the fact that she was considered an unfit parent sent her over the edge and she was institutionalized. I'll be able to see her for the first time in person, we've been video chatting so we can see each other, she still can't talk but she holds up signs for me to read and I answer vocally, in September.

Sam couldn't believe that so much had happened to Dash in his short life. It was hard to believe that he lived in the school. She wanted to do something to help him come out from hiding within himself now that he was willing and able to let the 'real Dash' shine through. She thought about it a lot and finally she decided she knew what she was gonna do. She didn't know if it would work or not, but she was gonna give it a shot.

 _A/N: What did you think? Was that an interesting development?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: I don't own or claim any of the characters except for those not mentioned in the show and Dash's parents.

 **Sam**

Pamela and Jeremy Manson loved Sam's deal with them. They shoved food at her practically every twenty minutes it felt like and Sam would eat it without complaint as long as there was no meat or animal byproduct in it. As a result, plus all of the walking they did on tours around the city, Sam filled out. She also grew two inches.

Her mother was excited with a chance to restock her wardrobe. Sam said that she was willing to try some dresses as long as they weren't pouffe and old ladyish or pink. That didn't stop Pamela from showing her things that weren't classified as 'pink' but pretty darn close in Sam's opinion such as cotton candy, and cherry blossom.

She ended up getting several new outfits. Some were dresses, which made her mom happy, but they were more form fitting and in Sam approved colors. She got some form fitting pants that looked like they were painted on in black, red, purple, and gray. She got some short shorts, some cargo shorts, some khaki shorts, and some knee length shorts. She got blouses, camisoles, tee-shirts, and tank-tops in neon green, purple, red, orange, and green plaid, and black. She got some fitted sweaters, cardigans, and sweatshirts in black, red, green, and purple in different shades.

She got some jewelry to go with her new outfits. She had some that were simple and understated. She also had some elegant pieces for occasions when her mother forced her go to galas and dinners. She also had some for her every day outfits when she wanted to feel just a little fancier.

She also got some new swimsuits. She got a few of one pieces, a dark purple with crisscrossing straps in the back, black with white skulls placed randomly all over with a very low back that ended just above her lower back, and a light green with dark purple horizontal stripes. She also had a couple of bikinis, which she didn't think she'd wear except when she was sure she was by herself. She was feeling better about her body now that she filled out a little bit, but still rather self-conscious. One was bright neon orange with black polka dots and the other was chartreuse.

She had new shoes as well. Platforms, high heels, her trusty combat boots, sandals, etc. She had a shoe for basically every single possible event she could possibly ever go to. She wanted to be prepared for every eventuality.

Sam had read through Dash's journal from cover to cover over and over again. She felt she knew him so much better now. The him that he hid from the World. She was totally gonna do the dual credit AP classes. She thought it would be a good idea to have an option of a scholarship. She wished there were girls sports besides cheer leading offered. There weren't enough girls interested enough for there to be a team. She'd probably be a team of one.

 **Dash**

Dash decided that during the summer he could sleep in the park on one of the benches as long as it wasn't raining and he was careful not to let the patrolling cops see him. He rented a storage locker for his clothes and other personal items for when the school closed because when it was closed, it was locked tighter than Fort Knox.

There was a local YMCA that had just been built recently that he could use to shower and change. He was also planning on using their swimming pool to exercise and train. Even though it was no longer a requirement, he still wanted to be the best football player he could be. He would also use their weight room.

He was also planning on spending most of his time that he wasn't at the Y at the Public Library. This way he could also study and read. The library was open until 8 on weekdays, til 5 on Saturdays, but closed on Sundays. At least that was until football camp. His dad had already signed the parent permission slip before he went to jail so that was one less thing to take care of.

Food was a different story. During the school year he had used the fridge and microwave in the teacher's lounge. He hid his food in the very back of the fridge and on the top shelf of his locker. He wouldn't have any place to store food outside and he doubted he could store it at the Y. Perhaps in his storage locker, but he definitely couldn't get fresh things, or things that needed to be refrigerated or heated up unless he was gonna eat it right away.

Dash kept up his behavior of bullying like he said he would. Nobody would understand his 'sudden' change of heart. He wasn't gonna bully anybody next school year. He wasn't going to pretend to be dumb, and he certainly wasn't gonna hide his intellectual side.

He kind of wanted to know what Sam would think of the 'new' him, but didn't want to dwell on it too much. He felt that she would think it was a sham. He didn't really think she'd like him no matter what considering how many times he beat up her best friends. Danny a lot more than Tucker. It made him kind of sad, but he realized a long time ago that his dad made sure that no girl would like him. If she liked his personality, which he thought was probably impossible, then she wouldn't like his looks. If she liked his looks, she wouldn't like him once she saw his scars. Sam was too good for him anyway.

(A/N: Time skip)

He spent the summer as he thought he would. He had a few close calls when sleeping on the benches in the park. He almost got caught by the cops a couple of times. He also found that he wasn't the only homeless person in Amity Park. He knew that from bringing food to the homeless shelter, which he thought about staying for about 1.2 seconds, but thought that there were other people who could use the beds more than he could.

It turns out there were others who slept in the park. He ended up getting in a few fights. He tried to avoid conflict with them and if they said a certain bench was their sleeping place, then he let them have it. However, some seemed to want to fight no matter what. It was like they went out of their way to antagonize him.

He learned that he was quite strong. He knew he was due to football, but this was in a whole different league. He also learned that they fought dirty. He got a few new scars to add to his collection, but he earned the respect of quite a few because no matter how badly he was hurt, he didn't let it show. He'd been knifed, hit, punched, kicked, etc. but he never went down once. He kept fighting even as he was oozing blood.

He had a jagged looking scar on his right arm from where someone cut him with a broken glass bottle. He also had a scar just peaking out from the collar of his shirt on his neck from one of his fights. He never lost a fight, but he also never attacked first. He only deflected blows, never inflicted unless they were determined not to give up. After awhile he was known not to be messed with.

He worked really hard at training and at studying. He wanted to be the strongest and best honestly, not through manipulation and intimidation. He didn't tell anyone anything. The ones he grappled with were also not going to say anything because they too couldn't be found out. They also didn't want anyone to know that he bested them. You could lose your street cred that way.

Dash had noticed that he was kind of bulking up and his clothes were starting to get snug. He also seemed to be growing taller as his pants that had been covering the tops of his shoe now only came down to his mid-calf. He was glad that he had access to his bank account so he could be able to buy new clothes so that when he went back to school he wouldn't look like a hobo.

Not that he had anything against hobos, as he kind of was one, he just didn't want to look like it. He had to walk everywhere, which he really didn't mind. He had his permit, but for obvious reasons couldn't drive. He was planning to get his license as soon as he turned sixteen. He didn't have a car yet, but he had enough money saved in the bank to buy one. He had enough he could buy a new one, but he never felt right about flaunting his money so a used one would do.

He did, however; splurge by going to the barber. He'd never grown facial hair before, but that came along with the growth spurt apparently. He hadn't been taught to shave and his first attempt ended up with him getting more nicks and cuts than actually getting it off. His hair had also grown quite shaggy and was nearing his shoulders. Therefore, he decided the barber was probably the best option until he could learn how to shave.

He still did things for others such as mowing lawns, raking leaves, etc. He didn't need to be as careful because his dad couldn't punish him anymore, but he still would rather not be acknowledged for his deeds. It made him feel superficial when they praised him, like he was only doing it to get noticed.

(A/N: Time skip)

 **General**

Sam came back the States the week before school started again. Her mom insisted she go to the salon right away. She did something different this time. She had let it grow out during the summer so it was just past her shoulders. She got a tight perm so her hair came just above her shoulders afterward. She also got red and blond streaks added.

She had her outfit for the first day of school picked out. She was gonna wear a purple spaghetti strap tank top with a blood red cardigan on top of that, black pants, and black combat boots with neon green stripes.

She also had her idea of how to give Dash his journal back. She hoped he went through with being himself this school year. She was wondering who all would be in their dual credit AP classes. She knew it would be her and Dash for sure, but didn't know who else could possibly be in them.

Dash got all his new clothes ready. He was able to move back into the school once the teachers were prepping their rooms. He was really careful not to let them see him. He was able to find out by using the thing in the gym that he was now 6'3. He left his hair a little shaggy and it just hung over the tops of his ears at the sides and his bangs just over his eyebrows. He decided to keep a little facial hair, just a little fuller than a goatee.

Sam didn't see Danny or Tucker until they stopped by her house to pick her up on the first day of school. She was standing outside waiting for them and they didn't recognize her at first. All they thought was 'hot girl' and then kept heading to Sam's door. Sam had to ask them where they were going and why they weren't saying 'hi' to her before they realized it was her.

Every first day of school, Dash would start off the day by shoving Danny into his locker right when the first bell rang since fifth grade when they got lockers. That decidedly didn't happen this time. They didn't see Dash anywhere. Tucker and Danny thought it odd because he had never missed a day of school except for when Spectra came and infected everyone with ghost bugs.

Sam knew he must have begun his plan to not beat anyone up since he wasn't outside and she was assuming he still lived in the school. She just had to figure out which was his locker so she could put her plan into action.

Tucker and Danny were just happy that he was leaving them alone. They were too busy checking out the 'babes' for the new school year. Sam noticed them looking at her a few times, but at least they weren't as obvious as usual at least when it came to her. All the other girls seemed to still make them stuck on stupid.

When they went in, they each went their separate ways. Sam tried to keep a look out for Dash, but thought they would probably have some of the same AP classes so she wasn't too worried about it. She was really curious about if there were any other students who would be in the AP classes.

When the bell rang, the students headed to their first classes. There were about ten students in her first AP class. When roll call was called, Dash noticed Sam. He really liked her new look. It was so her without being over the top. He always thought if she was going to put color in her hair that it would be purple, which has always seemed to have been her favorite color. Sam also noticed Dash. She noticed him looking at her and he gave her a cute little grin and a nod.

She thought he looked hot, for lack of a better word. She thought his grin was adorable, a word which she wouldn't admit was in her vocabulary. She thought it made her sound like she was talking about a puppy. Although she was suddenly having an odd urge to run her fingers through his now shaggy hair, which she would also never admit.

She really liked the goatee too. She thought it was probably that he did look hot, but she probably thought she was noticing more than she would have before she read his journal. She knew it wasn't total bias because she noticed other girls watching him in between classes.

After school Dash went to his locker to put his books away. He saw a folded piece of paper on one of the shelves that he didn't put there. He opened it out of curiosity and was surprised about what he saw.

'Dash,

I found your journal on the last day of school last year. If you want it back, it will be in empty locker 426. The combination is L35, R67, L21.

A friend'

He was very surprised as he figured that his journal was something that he'd never get back. He was curious as to the signage of 'a friend.' He went to that locker and opened it up. He found his journal with another note on top of it. He opened it to find it was much longer than the other and took both back with him to his own locker so he could get ready for football practice and he'd read it when everyone else left.

Football went pretty well. He went to football camp so all of his teammates were aware of his changes. He had to get a different size uniform and a new letter jacket. The incoming freshman got to see the legendary Dash in action. The others that had worked with him before noticed he was even better than before.

Once everyone had left and Dash ate his dinner did he finally remember the note that was on his journal and decided to read it.

'To the real Dash Baxter,

I admit when I found your journal I was overjoyed. I thought I'd have perfect blackmail material. I felt you deserved it for being the school bully for so many years. The first ten pages just seemed to confirm that you needed to be knocked down a peg or two. I soldiered on and kept reading.

I've read your entire journal. I'm sorry that it's an invasion of your privacy, however; I understand you so much better now. The Dash that has been hidden away is an amazing person. Take a chance and let the World see that person. I know you at least did have plans on letting your true personality shine through this school year. I want to encourage you to do just that.

I also want to encourage you to stand strong. You did a great job of protecting your mother the best you could. It has probably saved her life numerous times. Be proud of the scars; they're the mark of strength, survival, and the protection you gave your mother. I wouldn't count on it scaring away all girls. Some girls find them sexy.

I wanted to let you know that you're not alone. I'm here for you. It's up to you whether or not you accept my offer, but we can be pen-pals, for lack of a better word. I'm not ready to reveal myself to you unless you decide you really want to get to know me because, let's just say, we run in completely different circles. If you decide to get to know me and you like me on paper, then I'll reveal my identity to you. That way I'll be pretty sure you'll still like me whether I'm a band geek or a cheerleader. If you don't like me through our letters, then no harm, no foul.

As I said, it's up to you. If you decide you want to be pen-pals, then leave me a note or letter in this locker. You can ask me questions if you wish, such as if I'm male or female, what class is my favorite, etc. If you figure out who I am, I'll give you a prize. I have no idea what the prize could possibly be, but if you figure it out, the prize will be grand. If the next time I open this locker it's empty, you'll never hear from me again.

A friend'

Dash was really surprised. He didn't think he'd ever see his journal again much less gain an anonymous 'friend' from its disappearance. He wasn't sure to take this letter seriously or not. It did encourage him like it was supposedly supposed to. He wondered if he were to trust this person if some day it would come back to bite him such as posters hanging around the school that said 'Dash's dad is in jail and he's a poser' or some such thing.

He decided to take a chance. If this was for real, it'd be pretty cool and if it wasn't, whatever their gain was from it would blow out and die down in gossip eventually. He thought about what he wanted to write and ask. He supposed he ought to start how regular pen-pals started, although they at least know the name of who they're writing to.

'Dear Friend,

It would be nice to have someone know the real me. I can't say I'm not suspicious of your motives for wanting to be pen-pals with me. I'll give it a shot. So I guess the first would be a list of questions. What's your favorite color? Gender? Into sports? Favorite teams if so? Favorite food? Hobbies? Favorite music? I guess that's it to start. Feel free to ask me questions as well. Though I guess you already know quite a bit about me seeing as you read my journal. I'm not sure how to feel about that to tell you the truth, but I can understand your thought that I needed to be brought down. Is there something else I should address you as or keep using 'Friend'?

Dash'

 _A/N: Read and Review._


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